


burnt sugar

by jeserai



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20671160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeserai/pseuds/jeserai
Summary: Adora frowns down at her phone and skims through the proposition again: someone is willing to pay whatever amount to take a girl to a family dinner. The price is negotiable, and it starts out at $1,000. There’s a phone number listed, too, but that’s the only way to contact...whoever it is. | (or, catra needs a date and adora needs money)





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The machine beeps a harsh decline, and Adora feels the back of her neck begin to heat up as she swipes her card again. She’s hoping to god that it was just the machine, that it’s just a dumb mistake, but her card is declined again and god, she’s never been more embarrassed in her life.

Adora blinks the sleep from her eyes as the customer in front of her finally finishes paying and leaves; she shuffles up to the register and haphazardly drops her miniature mountain of ramen and soda onto the counter. It’s _ definitely _ not the healthiest meal she’s ever had, and she _ knows _ she’ll have to go to the gym extra early before classes tomorrow to make up for it, but it’s already later than late and she’s _ exhausted. _ Today seemed extra long even if it was just the same as usual: first her morning exercise, then classes, fencing practice, and an evening shift at Bright Moon—it’d all left her feeling more drained than usual, and she hasn’t even _ touched _her homework yet.

The cashier looks just as out of it as Adora feels, scanning all of her items and barely containing a huge yawn as she does so. “Swipe or insert your card when you’re ready,” she says, and Adora pulls her card out from her phone case, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she swipes it. She’s pretty sure she has enough money, but she doesn’t get paid until Friday, and—

The machine beeps a harsh decline, and Adora feels the back of her neck begin to heat up as she swipes her card again. She’s hoping to _ god _ that it was just the machine, that it’s just a dumb mistake, but her card is declined again and god, she’s never been more embarrassed in her _ life. _ Luckily, when she takes a quick glance behind her, no one is in line, and Adora gives the cashier her most winning smile as she says, “Can I just—I have to add money to my card, it’ll take just a minute.”

The cashier—Mermista, her name tag reads—shrugs and pulls her phone from her pocket. “Sure, whatever, I’m stuck here until midnight anyway,” she grumbles, and Adora gives her another apologetic smile before pulling out her phone and texting her group chat.

> **Ado-ra** (22:08): can someone send me $$$ real quick i mat the store and my card got declined :(
> 
> **B♥w **(22:08): D: of course and don’t worry about paying back !!
> 
> **Glim!** (22:09): tell us if you need more !!

Almost immediately, Adora’s phone lights up with two notifications—Bow and Glimmer have both sent her money, and before she can just about melt into a little puddle of embarrassment, she loads the money onto her card and slides it into the machine again. This time, the transaction goes through.

> **Ado-ra **(22:13): thank u sm :(((( i love u guys
> 
> **B♥w **(22:14): awww we love u too!!

“Ugh, _ how _ do you get someone to _ stop _ trying to ask you out?” Mermista groans suddenly; she’s scowling at her phone, and as Adora watches, she huffs and puts it facedown on the counter. “He won’t stop _ texting _me.”

“Maybe just tell him you’re not interested?”

Mermista looks away, still frowning, but this time, it seems forced, like she’s trying to bite back a softer expression. “I can’t do that, he’s…”

_ Ah. _ What would Glimmer and Bow say here? “I don’t really have much experience with relationships, but can you try to just talk to him about it? If he really likes you, he should understand if you need more time, or a smaller gesture, or whatever else you need. And if he doesn’t understand that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Mermista glances up, startled, a soft little smile melting the stoniness of her face. “That’s so sweet, thank you. Here, let me—” she cuts herself off to bag Adora’s things, slipping in a chocolate bar despite Adora’s weak protests.

> **Glim! **(22:23): what time are you coming home?
> 
> **Ado-ra **(22:23): leaving the store now :) im just talking to the casheir, shes really nice
> 
> **B♥w **(22:23): hurry home we miss u

"Thank you again," Mermista says as Adora grabs her bags, "really. I'm going to try talking to him tomorrow."

"You don't have to thank me—I really do hope it goes well with him!" Adora's phone buzzes in her pocket, but she ignores it in favor of giving Mermista another big smile again. "Tell me how it goes if I see you again, okay?"

"Sure, I guess, yeah." But she's still smiling, and she even waves when Adora heads out the door.

> **Ado-ra **(22:25): omw now :)

The walk from the convenience store to her apartment is blessedly short; one of the perks of living so close to campus is that everything is in such close proximity—a double blessing since Bow is the only one with a car. If she’s being honest with herself, Adora doesn’t really mind the walk, tells herself it’s extra training, and really, it is. It also gives her time to think, time to be alone—because as much as she loves Bow and Glimmer, she _ needs _ time by herself, time to be quiet and reflect and just _ be. _ Tonight’s going to be another long night, though. Adora sighs and pockets her phone, hefts her bag up, and begins to walk home.

When she gets home, Bow is lying curled up on the couch, headphones in as he focuses on his laptop, typing something—probably the paper he’s been procrastinating. He flashes Adora a bright smile when he sees her, but otherwise doesn’t say anything, and Adora waves and leaves him be, heading straight to her room and dumping her stuff at the end of her bed. She’s _ tempted _to go straight to sleep, but Adora forces herself to go shower, to heat up her ramen, to sit at their tiny table with her textbooks and laptop. She forces herself to work until Glimmer gently shakes her awake, sleep in her eyes and softness on her lips. The clock on the other side of the room glares out 3:06am and Adora lets herself be tugged and pushed into her bed with not even a single protest.

When she wakes up, it’s six minutes before her alarm is supposed to go off, and Adora spends them staring at the ceiling, mentally going through her day. She’ll walk to the gym, breakfast—a granola bar and a smoothie—in hand, and once at the gym, she’ll do a mile warmup run, work her legs for half an hour, and her core for another half hour, then do a mile cooldown run. Bow will pick her up at around 8 for classes, then she’ll go to practice, and since it’s Friday, she doesn't have work, so she’ll only go to the gym again for another hour. Maybe she’ll head to the library afterwards and do her work there so she won’t fall asleep, or—

Adora’s phone interrupts her thoughts, and with a heavy sigh, she sits up and gets ready to start the day, moving quietly because she knows that Glimmer and Bow are still sleeping. Right before she heads out, she grabs the lunch Bow had made her yesterday and starts the coffee machine for Glimmer, then grabs her stuff and heads to the gym. 

The best thing about being at the gym so early—6:15am, an ungodly hour, according to her roommates—is that no one else is there, and Adora works out in peace, losing herself in her ragged breaths and the sweat dripping down her forehead, the pounding of her heartbeat and the familiar burn of her muscles being pushed further, further. She’s always enjoyed working out: the discipline it takes, the soreness the day after, seeing the slow and steady progress—but the gym has become something of her own private space. Glimmer practically breaks out into hives when Adora even _ thinks _about working out, and while Bow enjoys exercise, just half of a session with Adora had him ready to quit. So the gym is hers, now.

When Adora finally takes a break for water, she grabs her phone as well to see a few messages from the group chat.

> **B♥w **(6:49): sooo
> 
> **B♥w **(6:50): guess what I found!
> 
> **Ado-ra **(7:03): what?
> 
> **B♥w **(7:04): [link shared]
> 
> **B♥w **(7:04): read it!!!
> 
> **Ado-ra **(7:05): will after i finish up here :)
> 
> **B♥w **(7:06): :(((
> 
> **B♥w **(7:07): fine…..

Adora allows herself one more moment to rest, then goes back to work, and this time, she doesn’t stop until Bow calls out her name from the doorway of the gym. From there, it’s their usual routine: while Adora takes a quick shower and changes into her school clothes, he puts away all of the equipment she’d used, then talks to the girl at the desk until Adora comes out, ready to go. Then they both say goodbye to Perfuma and head out to Glimmer’s car.

“So,” Bow drags out the word, “did you read it?”

“Oh!” Adora digs her phone out of her pocket and finds the link again, glancing over to see Bow glancing back at her in quick bursts as he drives. “I’ll read it now.”

That earns her a satisfied smile, and as Bow fiddles with the radio, Adora reads the article he’s sent her. And it’s—”What, is this a joke?”

“I don’t think so, and even if it is, what’s the worst that can happen? You meet them someplace public and say no. Me and Glimmer can even go too, just in case.”

Adora frowns down at her phone and skims through the proposition again: someone is willing to pay whatever amount to take a girl to a family dinner. The price is negotiable, and it starts out at $1,000. There’s a phone number listed, too, but that’s the only way to contact...whoever it is. “This _ has _to be fake. And besides, I can’t just...take money from a stranger like this.”

“You’re not doing it for nothing,” Bow reasons, “you have to go to the dinner to get the money anyway.”

“The base price is $1,000, Bow! That much money for one dinner? Whoever this is, they have to be crazy!”

“Maybe they’re just rich—” Bow cuts himself off as he pulls into the parking lot, and Adora lets him concentrate as he parks before he finishes with, “Rich people do things like that, don’t they?”

Adora frowns and shakes her head, uses the moments spent getting out of the car to think. “I don’t know, Bow…” and to placate him, she promises, “I’ll think about it, though.”

“You don’t have to do it, I’m not trying to pressure you or anything! I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to at least _ tell _you about it, y’know?”

And yeah, Adora knows. “I _ promise _I’ll think about it.”

And think about it she does, all through her classes, all through fencing practice. She thinks about the ludocrity of the situation, thinks about how much money they’re offering. Thinks about Bow’s offer to go along with her to the meeting, thinks about how it’s just one dinner. Thinks about her card being declined, and having to ask her roommates for money. And she decides.

Adora manages to wait until she’s halfway to the gym to text the number.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sorry I’m late,” Catra says, and she knows she doesn’t sound sorry, and she probably doesn’t look it either. She slowly, slowly takes all of Adora in, from her messy ponytail to her varsity jacket, the unbuttoned plaid flannel with the plain shirt under, her shorts and thighs littered with small scrapes and bruises. She’s—kind of really cute. And she’s eyeing Catra up and down too.

A few heads turn as Catra’s phone buzzes once and then again, and Catra stares them down with one brow raised in a silent challenge. While they look on, faces showing their obvious disgust, Catra flips her phone over to check it. Hordak continues speaking as if there had been no interruption, but the look he gives Catra is absolutely murderous, just like always.

> **[unknown number]** (6:55pm): Hi, I saw the post about needing a date for a family dinner? Is that...legit?
> 
> **[unknown number] ** (6:55pm): I’m Adora by the way
> 
> **Catra** (6:56pm): Hey, Adora
> 
> **Catra ** (6:56pm): And yes, it’s legit
> 
> **[unknown number] ** (7:01pm): cool :)

Catra hides her scoff behind a palm pressed to her mouth, now only half listening as one of the shareholders raises yet another complaint. She knows she’s going to get an earful later on about how disrespectful she’s being, but this  _ Adora  _ girl is already endearing enough to make it worth it.

> **Catra ** (7:02pm): Hey. Find out whatever you can about an Adora and get back to me asap
> 
> **Entrapta** (7:03pm): when you say Whatever….
> 
> **Catra ** (7:04pm): Just. Make sure she’s not a serial killer or something. A last name and a picture would be nice too.
> 
> **Entrapta ** (7:04pm): :(((((( but thats so boooring
> 
> **Catra ** (7:05pm): I mean it, E. That’s all i need
> 
> **Entrapta ** (7:05pm): fine, boss :(((((

With that, Catra slips her phone into her pocket, and begins to doodle on the corner of board meeting program. One hour down, one to go.

When the meeting is  _ finally  _ adjourned, Catra breezes passed everyone else, ignoring Hordak’s half-hearted call of her name in favor of pulling out her earbuds and phone. There’s an email from Entrapta—likely whatever information she’s found out about Adora—and a text from Adora herself that Catra finds herself opening immediately.

> **[unknown number]** (7:29pm): so i was just wondering if we could meet up sometime first?
> 
> **Catra ** (8:02pm): What, do you think I’m some kind of serial killer?
> 
> **[unknown number] ** (8:05pm): what??? No!! I never saidi that!
> 
> **[unknown number] ** (8:05pm): whats ur name btw?
> 
> **Catra ** (8:06pm): My name is Catra, but you can call me whatever you like
> 
> **[unknown number] ** (8:07pm): sdjfhkkfdgdf>????

Catra finds a grin curving up the corners of her lips; Adora is so  _ easy  _ to rile up. She doesn’t know anything about the girl yet, but this is promising. It also doesn’t seem like Adora knows who she is—another godsend. People always tend to treat her differently once they find out she’s rich, once they know who her family is. Catra’s lip curls at the thought of them: it’s not  _ her  _ fault that they picked to adopt her.

But it is what it is, and being Hordak’s daughter  _ does  _ have its advantages, Catra thinks. She jams the down button for the elevator with one hand, and with the other, opens Entrapta’s email. It’s brief, the subject message a simple sad face, but it’s what she’d asked for. Adora’s full name—Adora Sideris—and a college ID picture of her, smiling awkwardly into the camera. God, she looks dumb, especially with the little hair poof thing going on. Entrapta’s email also says that she’s in college, that she’s only a few months older than Catra, and that she’s the captain of her school’s fencing team.

_ That  _ makes Catra pause. Looking at the picture, she would’ve guessed prep, or nerd—definitely not  _ fencing team captain.  _ But then, she reminds herself, appearances don’t mean shit. A few of the businessmen from the board meeting around the corner as she steps into the elevator, and Catra takes extreme pleasure in watching the elevator doors close in their faces as they flag her to keep it open. Dumbasses.

> **Catra ** (8:16pm): Lol
> 
> **Catra ** (8:16pm): You’re cute, Adora
> 
> **Catra ** (8:17pm): Anyway, can you meet tomorrow? You pick the place
> 
> **[unknown number] ** (8:20pm): i have fencing practice until about noon, so anytime after then. And do you know Bright Moon? It’s a little cafe by the high school

And Catra doesn’t know, but she looks it up and as the elevator doors open, she texts Adora back one last time.

> **Catra ** (8:22pm): bright moon, tomorrow at 3:30pm. Give you some time to get cleaned up, princess
> 
> **Adora ** (8:22pm): :) okay!

“Lonnie!” Catra calls out as she pockets her phone again. Her driver startles and glances up, expression souring as she sees Catra waiting at the edge of the sidewalk. Catra feels  _ just  _ the same.

“What do you want now?”

“Um, for you to do your  _ job?  _ Wouldn’t want you to get fired, now would we? Now come on, I’m hungry. We’re getting pizza.”

Lonnie heaves a sigh, but she nods and opens the back door, slamming it with more force than necessary once Catra is inside. As the car peels away from Horde Industries’ Corporate Headquarters, Catra busies herself with her phone, drowning out the rest of the world with loud, angry music.

Just like always.

The first person she sees when she gets back to the house is Daemon, sitting on the living room floor with a coloring book in front of him. He blinks up at her when she approaches, and gives her a toothy grin. With the canines that have just come in, his smile looks decidedly fanged, and Catra hates it.

“Hey, imp.” she mutters as she passes. Daemon clumsily parrots her words back, but quickly returns his attention to his crayons, and Catra rolls her eyes at him when he’s not looking. She fucking hates kids,  _ especially  _ this one. But now, all she has to do is manage to sneak upstairs and safely make it to her room before—

“ _ Catra. _ ”

Catra freezes, one foot on the stairs, and for a moment, she debates running. But as quickly as the thought comes, she dismisses it and pivots around, pasting her best unimpressed look on her face. “What?”

Her adoptive mother stands in the doorway between the living room and the dining room, distaste on her face as she stares Catra down. “And  _ why  _ did you come home so late? The deal was straight home after your board meetings, wasn’t it?”

Anger rises up like a tidal wave and Catra only barely manages to quash it with a deep breath in and out. “I was hungry. I got food. Get off my back.”

“Now,  _ Catra,  _ you know that both your father and I only want the best for you. Ever since we rescued you from that  _ dreadful  _ orphanage, we’ve only been preparing you for the business you’re going to inherit.”

In the background, Daemon giggles, as if even  _ he _ knows what a joke that is. For once, Catra has to agree with him. “Okay, well, I’m here now.”

“Then  _ act  _ like it, insolent child.” And with that, Weaver soundlessly sweeps away, leaving behind only her words and the cloying scent of her perfume.

As Catra starts up the stairs, Daemon laughs again and parrots, “Insolent child.” Catra whips around and hisses at him, and reluctantly lets the sound of his laughter follow her upstairs.

> **Catra ** (9:02pm): What are you doing
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:15pm): working on a project
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:15pm): Do you need more infomration about Adora??
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:15pm): thats a lot more interesting !!!
> 
> **Catra ** (9:16pm): No. And because I know I can’t stop you, just don’t tell me whatever you find out
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:17pm): :))))))))
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:20pm): anyway, did you need someting?
> 
> **Catra ** (9:21pm): Not really. The hag was just on my ass again
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:22pm): u know what wuld make ufeel better :)))))
> 
> **Catra ** (9:22pm): No to whatever you’re going to suggest, unless it involves me getting out of here
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:23pm): well. No
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:23pm): i was going to say i could tell u about adora !!
> 
> **Catra **(9:24pm): No! I’m meeting her tomorrow, I don’t need to meet her and be thinking about her ugly baby pictures or _whatever _it is that you manage to dig up
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:24pm): :(((( her baby pictures werent ugly they were actually really cute
> 
> **Catra ** (9:25pm): Oh my god.
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:25pm): [image sent]
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:25pm): [image sent]
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:25pm): [image sent]
> 
> **Catra ** (9:26pm): I am not opening those.
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:26pm): :(((((
> 
> **Catra ** (9:27pm): It is an invasion of her privacy???
> 
> **Entrapta ** (9:28pm): they shouldnt have been put online then. ANyone can find them!
> 
> **Catra ** (9:28pm): Still. I’m not looking

(Not ten minutes later, Catra ends up looking. And she hates to admit it, but Entrapta is right. Adora’s baby pictures are actually kind of cute.)

Catra shows up at Bright Moon at just after four, slamming the car door shut much harder than necessary before Lonnie can get a chance to throw out some scathing remark in lieu of a farewell. If any of the people around her notice, they don’t show it, and Catra takes a moment to focus on the café, trying to get a sense of what Adora is like before she goes in. Already, she can see that she hates it—too much  _ pink,  _ too much  _ light.  _ Catra knows how well she stands out but she doesn’t care, ignoring the curious looks she gets as she storms into the café.

The  [ inside ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/365143482283792027/) is just as bad as the  [ outside ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/90635011236177944/) , and—objectively, it’s nice. It’s definitely Instagram worthy, and there are more than just a few groups of teenagers taking pictures of each other, of their food, of the room around them, but Christ. Catra feels disgusted on a molecular level.

But as much as she hates it, she’s here for a reason, that reason being the blonde ponytail of a girl sitting alone in a booth all the way in the back. She’s looking down at her phone, idly scrolling through something, and as Catra watches, she looks up and around, smiling crookedly at a boy and a girl sitting at a table nearby. She—Adora—doesn’t notice Catra, and neither do her friends, so Catra waits for them to look away from each other before making her way over to Adora’s booth.

“Hey, Adora,” she says, leaning against the booth, and when Adora looks up, eyes wide and startled, “how’s it hanging?”

“You’re— _ you’re  _ Catra?” her voice comes out a little weak, and Catra can’t help the grin that twitches up the corners of her lips. Adora quickly stands and holds out her hand, still looking just a little bit embarrassed, just a little bit dumbstruck.

“Sorry I’m late,” Catra says, and she  _ knows  _ she doesn’t sound sorry, and she probably doesn’t look it either. She slowly,  _ slowly _ takes all of Adora in, from her messy ponytail to her  [ varsity jacket ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/696158054882598312/) , the unbuttoned plaid flannel with the plain shirt under, her shorts and thighs littered with small scrapes and bruises. She’s—kind of really cute. And she’s eyeing Catra up and down too.

“Were we supposed to dress up?” Adora suddenly asks, and Catra looks down at herself and what she’s  [ wearing ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/371758144239763423/) , and oh.

“No, I was just at a meeting.” Which isn’t a  _ total  _ lie. Lonnie drove her to the meeting and waited to leave until she went inside—and as soon as she pulled away, Catra walked right back out and headed to Entrapta’s.

“Oh, well—you’re here now! Did you want to order anything first?”

Catra shrugs. “You order whatever, I’ll pay for it.”

Seemingly without thinking, Adora reaches out, taking Catra’s hand in hers to tug her up to the front of the shop. She drops her hand as soon as she realizes, cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink as she splutters out an excuse, “Sorry—my roommates, they’re my best friends, and I’m just used to doing that—I’m so sorry!”

And surprisingly, Catra—who hates touching, who hates being touched, who hates any form of intimacy, really—can’t bring herself to mind.

Ten minutes later finds them back in the booth, Adora with an iced blueberry black tea and Catra with a triple mocha frappe. Adora is tracing her finger along the rim of her cup, collecting condensation as she stares down at the table, and Catra knows she should be talking, maybe explaining why Adora is here in the first place, maybe getting to know her, but she’s content to just watch Adora, to take in the beauty of her silence.

Until Adora looks up, of course. She tilts her head a little in obvious confusion when she sees Catra already looking, but she seems content in waiting for Catra to speak. There is a kind of shuttered kindness on her face and in her eyes; from just her face alone, Catra can tell what kind of person Adora is. She sees stubbornness in the rigidity of her posture, kindness in the hint of a smile on her lips, strength in the calluses of her hands. She is soft, but she is strong too, and Catra  _ likes  _ that.

“So, you’ve had the night to think things over, do you have any questions?”

At that, Adora nods. “I guess—” she tugs out a lock of hair from her ponytail and twirls it around her finger before shoving it back behind her ear in what is clearly a nervous gesture, “I just wanted to know  _ what  _ this involves exactly? I know it’s a dinner, but I need time to prepare—if this is going to be a  _ thing _ —and I just—”

“It’s really just a stupid family dinner. We go in, play nice, dance, eat, play nice some more and leave. You’d get paid after, I don’t care how much.”

“Dance? Like—”

“Fancy dances and shit,” Catra waves away Adora’s concern with a dismissive hand, “I’d teach you.”

“So what, this is like a ball?”

Catra shrugs. “If you want to call it that, sure. It’s nothing to stress out over though, and besides, it’s not for another month or so. Plus, you can always say no, I can find someone else.”

“That’s…” Adora twirls that same lock of hair around her finger, tugging on it hard before asking quietly, “how much would it be?”

“How much do you want? It’s not my money, I don’t care.”

Adora snorts out a startled laugh, tucking her hair back again as she rolls her eyes. “You  _ can’t  _ be serious. See, this is why I thought this was fake—”

“I’m being serious. How much do you want? I’ll write the check now.”

The sudden ringing of Adora’s phone interrupts them, and Catra waits patiently as Adora fumbles for it, checks to see who is calling, rolls her eyes as she answers, and hisses out, “Guys,  _ really? _ ” before hanging up.

“Everything okay?” Catra asks mildly. Adora twists around and sticks her middle finger up at the boy and girl from before, then turns back, cheeks going pink.

“Yeah, it’s just my friends. They wanted to make sure that—well...”

“That I wasn’t some kind of serial killer?” And before Adora can begin to protest—because Catra can already see it on her face—she says, “It’s okay, I don’t mind. It’s good that they care that much about you.”

Because god knows her friends wouldn’t do the same.

“Anyway, I should get going before Lonnie comes to drag me back to the hellhole. You’ve got my number, if you change your mind, let me know before the end of the week.” Catra says as she stands to go; Adora reaches out as she passes, catching at her wrist and standing hurriedly as well.

“I want to do it.” There is a familiar look of determination in Adora’s steel-blue eyes; Catra grins at the sight of it and nods.

“Then I’ll text you later. Bye, Adora.”

> **Catra ** (4:53pm): Does Adora have Venmo?
> 
> **Entrapta ** (5:11pm): im guessing it went well then?
> 
> **Catra ** (5:12pm): Well enough. I’m coming over.
> 
> **Entrapta ** (5:15pm): yoou got it boss
> 
> **Entrapta ** (5:15pm): What about adoras venmo?
> 
> **Catra ** (5:16pm): Send her a couple hundred bucks from the hag’s card
> 
> **Entrapta ** (5:20pm): :)))))
> 
> **Catra ** (5:20pm): What.
> 
> **Entrapta ** (5:20pm): im glad u found someone nice :))))
> 
> **Entrapta ** (5:21pm): :)))
> 
> **Catra ** (5:22pm): Don’t push it
> 
> **Entrapta ** (5:23pm): :))))


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ado-ra: what are u wearing?  
Catra: Wow  
Catra: Very forward of you, princess  
Ado-ra: DFJHKSJFDNDKJ?S????MM  
Ado-ra: I MEAN TTO DINNER OH MY GO D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so........catra tiddy window huh.........

Sunday practices are easily Adora’s favorite. Coach Hope is strict about training, so the five hour practices are grueling, but Adora never really minds how sweaty and exhausted she inevitably gets. Patches of sweat on her t-shirt, limp hair stuck to her forehead, the flush on her cheeks from exertion, even the smell of sweat—it’s a palpable medal of all the work she’s putting in, a visible reminder that she’s getting better and stronger each day.

Adora minds today, though, because just halfway through practice, everyone stops what they’re doing, heads all turning in the same direction. Adora finishes her last set of burpees before taking out her earbuds and turning to see what they’re looking at. And—

Catra.

Catra has waltzed into the gym with her phone in one hand and a coffee in the other, and she either doesn’t notice or just doesn’t care about all the eyes on her, because she makes her way up to the top of the bleachers and sits there like she owns the place. She’s talking to someone on the phone while she carefully scans the room, expression vaguely uninterested—until she spots Adora, as sweaty and gross as she is. A coy grin spreads across her lips as she waves; Adora feels the back of her neck begin to burn and she spins back around to pick up her water bottle, ignoring the weight of her team’s gazes on her.

As if sensing the growing restlessness of the team, Coach Hope blows her whistle to call everyone over to her. Once the team is gathered around her in a tight circle, she asks, “Who is she here for?”

Hell. “She’s—I am _ so _ sorry, Coach Hope, I didn’t think she’d come so early.” _ Or at all. _

Coach Hope fixes Adora with a stern look, but nods. “You all know the rules. You can do your laps now or after practice, Adora. Everyone else, get back to work.”

Adora nods, gaze drifting up to where Catra sits. Phone call finished, she waits, clearly bored but content to just sit and watch. Even if she weren’t the only person in the bleachers, Catra would still stand out; in a room full of sweaty college fencers wearing their bulky uniforms sits Catra, modelesque and so very out of place.

Adora feels her gaze being pulled to Catra far too many times during practice, distracting her so much so that Coach Hope tells her to get off the strip until she clears her head. And with a pointed glare sent Catra’s way, Adora heads for the gym doors, not waiting to see if Catra will follow and somehow knowing that she will. Her stomach feels weak in the way it does when a tournament is about to start as she paces in small circles right outside the gym; she freezes in place as the door opens and frowns when Catra comes out.

“What are you _ doing _ here? How’d you know where I am? What—”

“Woah, slow down, princess. One question at a time.”

“Okay, then how did you know I was here?”

Catra grins, leaning back against the wall as Adora stares her down. “That would be Entrapta. I had her find a few things out about you before we met—y’know, to make sure _ you _weren’t a serial killer. Today’s one of my rare free days, so I asked her to find out where you were. Your phone placed you here.”

“So you’re friends with a hacker, and you came and found me at practice because...you had nothing better to do?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds kind of bad, but I swear had only good intentions this time.”

“_ This _ time?” Catra’s playful grin is contagious, and despite herself, Adora finds herself laughing. “I guess I don’t really mind you coming to see me, but _ please _ don’t interrupt practice next time, I have to run extra laps for bringing in a distraction.”

Catra pushes herself from the wall, stepping into Adora’s space far too quickly and far too easily. When Adora takes a step back, Catra follows, so Adora stands her ground as Catra comes to a stop what feels like just inches away. “So I’m a _ distraction, _huh?”

Adora splutters for an answer, much to Catra’s amusement: she barks out a laugh, shaking her head. “I’m _ kidding, _Adora! Here, I’ll buy your team lunch, maybe your coach won’t mind so much.”

Adora starts to say that yes, she will, but Catra speaks over her, “What do you want? I know a great sushi place; I always used to get sushi during fencing breaks.”

“You _ fence? _”

Catra shrugs, but Adora can tell that she’s pleased. “Fencing _ is _a rich kid’s sport. Though I never took it as seriously as you clearly do.”

And yeah; despite having met Catra just the other day, Adora can’t imagine her ever sweating or exerting herself. “I can see that.” To make her point, Adora looks Catra up and down; she looks effortlessly gorgeous in her sleeveless [ top ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/665618019910416639/) and ripped jeans.

“Either way,” Catra waves a dismissive hand, “You haven’t told me you don’t want to do this, so I’m taking you out after practice ends.”

“You gave me the week,” Adora laughs, “it’s only been a day.”

Catra narrows her eyes, lips pulling into a sullen frown; Adora can’t help laughing again at how obvious it is that she’s used to getting her way. Rich kids. “Well, I’m here. I’ll take you out anyway and maybe you’ll change your mind. Anyway, I’ll let you go back to practicing before your coach blows a blood vessel.”

Adora snorts, but does as she’s told. Her heart stutters in her chest at the thought of Catra watching her fence; even if it’s just practice, this is the first time Catra will see her—and no doubt, she’s been trained by _ professional _ coaches. _ Hell _.

Coach Hope doesn’t acknowledge Adora’s presence when she returns other than to nod in her direction, and as Adora suits up, three of her teammates surround her, wearing similar expressions of excitement and confusion.

“Adora, how do _ you _know Catra Leos?”

“What?” Adora glances up, startled, gaze flicking first from Scorpia to Catra and back.

“Catra Leos? Hordak’s adopted daughter? The Horde’s princess? Really, Adora, how could you _ not _ know who she was?” Sea Hawk scoffs, but there is no malice in his words.

Oh. _ Oh. _ “We…” Adora bites at her lower lip, trying and failing to come up with a lie good and plausible enough to placate them. “I’ll tell you after practice, okay?”

That doesn’t seem good enough for them, but Scorpia backs away and the rest follow her, leaving Adora to put on her lamé and grab her sabre before checking the pool sheet. She’s only missed one of her bouts, but there are still two more bouts to go before she has to fence again. Knowing Coach Hope, she’ll just have to do both of her bouts in a row.

Adora sighs and reties her ponytail before standing with the rest of the sabres. Try as she might, her thoughts—and eyes—keep wandering back to Catra. Catra Leos, the Horde’s princess.

It’s both surprising and somehow..._ not _ to find out who Catra really is. Horde Industries is a huge tech company, carrying everything from phones to computers, tablets to gaming systems, and word is that they’re looking into VR. For a moment, Adora wonders how long it would’ve taken her to figure out who Catra was if Sea Hawk never ended up telling her: she doesn’t exactly _ look _like the daughter of a tech mogul.

There are a dozen questions running through her mind the more she thinks about it: why doesn’t Catra have her parents’ surname? Why is she here, at unofficially observing a college fencing practicing when there are so many other undoubtedly important things she could be doing? Why didn’t she say who she was to begin with?

And of course, the biggest one: why does she really need Adora?

Just as Adora’s brain begins to come up with possible—and highly unlikely—reasons, Coach Hope calls her, gesturing for her to come over. As she walks over, Adora’s gaze unwittingly begins to drift to Catra again. Most of the time, Catra had been looking down at her phone, but every time Adora looked up and found Catra staring back at her, a little shock of nerves ran through her. This time is no different, and she still can’t figure out why it’s happening: they barely know each other, and it’s not like fencing was ever that big of a deal to Catra. And besides, it’s just like any other practice match, Adora reminds herself, Catra and her fancy coaches and her pretty smile don’t mean anything.

She guesses it’s because she doesn’t quite know what to make of Catra: she’d seemed disinterested throughout their entire first meeting, and her playful teasing through their texts and now is such a sharp contrast to that that Adora still doesn’t know how to respond.

Whatever it is, it—and no, not it, but Catra herself—is a distraction that Adora needs to quell.

“Yes, Coach?”

“Why is Catra Leos here?”

“Um.” _ Hell. _ “It’s kind of...a long story, Coach. But she said she’s sorry for interrupting, and she—she kind of bought the team lunch to make up for it. She’s _ very _sorry.”

Coach Hope narrows her eyes, but she nods and gestures for Adora to walk with her. She doesn’t speak until they’re out in the hallway, and Adora is nervous for a long few minutes until she says, “Adora, you must _ not _ let yourself get distracted, especially not now. For as long as you’ve been on this team, you’ve been focused, and dedicated, and everything I could possibly want, but you can’t lose that focus now. Districts is coming up, and I believe we have a chance at going to States. You’re the cornerstone of this team, Adora, if there is anything distracting you, you _ must _let go of it.”

Adora nods, mouth dry, and as if sensing her discomfort, Coach Hope sighs and shakes her head. “Get back in there, Adora. Tell everyone that we’ll take a lunch break when the food comes, I have to make some calls.”

And like always, Adora does as she’s told, calling everyone together and relaying the news. She gets a chorus of cheers at the mention of food, but when she goes to tell everyone to thank Catra for the meal, she has gone.

> **Ado-ra **(13:43): where’d you go? :(
> 
> **Catra **(13:44): Something came up, sorry princess
> 
> **Catra **(13:44): We’re still on for tonight though. I’ll take you out to dinner instead
> 
> **Ado-ra **(13:45): okay..what time?
> 
> **Catra **(13:47): I’ll text you when I’m done. I can have Lonnie pick you up if you want too.
> 
> **Ado-ra **(13:50): if thats not a problem :(
> 
> **Ado-ra **(13:50): oh where is the place btw? are u choosing?
> 
> **Catra **(13:52): You picked Bright Moon, it’s my pick this time. And no it’s not a problem, princess
> 
> **Catra **(13:52): Heard of the Crimson Waste?
> 
> **Ado-ra **(13:53): :0 i’ve never been !! i gotta go tho foods here!!
> 
> **Ado-ra **(13:55): see u later !! and thanks for lunch again :)
> 
> **Catra **(14:02): Of course, princess. It’s a date.

Adora ends up getting grilled again during lunch: Sea Hawk has somehow told just about the whole team that Catra was the one that bought them food, and that she came because of Adora. And now, because it’s Sea Hawk, everyone thinks they’re dating.

“We’re _ not _dating,” Adora insists again. “We just met one time, that’s it!”

“I don’t know, Adora, I don’t buy lunch for someone’s whole sports team after meeting them just once. Sushi, at that.”

“Yeah,” Sea Hawk chimes in, “sushi is _ expensive— _”

“And Catra is rich. It was probably nothing to her, she probably does stuff like this all the time. We’re _ really _not dating, guys.” Adora steals the tempura from Sea Hawk’s plate to get back at him, then waves a hand to get everyone’s attention. “If we’re talking about dating, why aren’t we talking about Sea Hawk’s crush?”

With the attention successfully shifted to Sea Hawk and his crush—”she’s the most beautiful girl in the world, we locked eyes from across the room and it was love at first sight! I’ve convinced her to join the team as well!” he’s saying—Adora takes the time to eat in peace, rereading her short conversation with Catra and biting her lip to keep from grinning. She doesn’t know why she’s so giddy and flustered, but as she screenshots the short conversation to send to Bow and Glimmer, Adora finds herself wishing that Catra would text her again, even just to say something inconsequential.

> **Ado-ra **(14:10): [image sent]
> 
> **Ado-ra **(14:10): [image sent]
> 
> **Ado-ra **(14:11): what do u guys think about this?
> 
> **B♥w **(14:12): OHHHHHHHH
> 
> **B♥w **(14:12): MYYYYY
> 
> **B♥w **(14:12): GODDDDD
> 
> **B♥w **(14:12): glimmer owes me $10
> 
> **Glim!** (14:13): UGH
> 
> **Ado-ra **(14:15): ????
> 
> **Glim! **(14:16): nothing!
> 
> **B♥w **(14:16): yeah! Nothing!
> 
> **Ado-ra **(14:17): ……
> 
> **Ado-ra **(14:15): u guys suck
> 
> **Glim! **(14:16): ♡♡♡
> 
> **B♥w **(14:16): ♡♡♡
> 
> **Ado-ra **(14:17): i gotta go in a bit but can u guys help me pick what to wear? idk what kind of place she chose :( what if its fancy?
> 
> **Glim! **(14:20): we are ON it

And somehow, despite Adora’s mind on Catra the whole time and her teammates’ teasing, practice goes on without another hitch.

The rest of the day, not so much.

Adora gets home close to 4:30, and debates texting Catra to let her know. She decides against it; Catra said she would let her know when she was done, and for some reason, she feels nervous to initiate conversation after Catra’s impromptu visit. And then she gets to her room, and to say that it looked like a hurricane blew through would be an understatement.

Bow is sitting cross-legged on the floor as Glimmer rummages through her closet, tossing out items and commenting on each one. Adora stands in the doorway for a moment, and when Bow spots her, he scrambles up and over to her, eyes wide. “Adora! We are _ definitely _going to clean all of this up while you’re gone, don’t worry! We were just trying to figure out what you should wear, because the Crimson Waste is some kind of upscale bar and lounge thing, and we didn’t want you to be underdressed for your first date, and then—”

“Guys, _ guys. _ I’ll just ask her what she’s wearing, it’s not that big of a deal.” Except it is, because it’s _ Catra. _Hell, she’s suddenly nervous.

> **Ado-ra **(16:39): what are u wearing?
> 
> **Catra **(16:40): Wow
> 
> **Catra **(16:40): Very forward of you, princess
> 
> **Ado-ra **(16:41): DFJHKSJFDNDKJ?S????MM
> 
> **Ado-ra **(16:41): I MEAN TTO DINNER OH MY GO D
> 
> **Catra **(16:42): Lol I know. I’m not dressing up or anything, don’t worry
> 
> **Catra ** (16:43): [ [ image sent ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/665618019910366240/)]

Adora decides then that she _ hates _ Catra. “ _ This _ isn’t dressing up? Look at this!” She brandishes her phone at Bow and Glimmer, offended on a physical level at how _ good _ Catra looks wearing something so casual—and yet that _ isn’t dressing up for her. _

Bow squints at the picture Catra’s sent of herself, then gasps. “She looks really good! But that means—”

“We have to start over,” Glimmer finishes for him.

“I’ll pick the outfit, you do her hair?”

“Guys! It’s not a date!” Adora says, and is ignored. Glimmer steers her towards her own room, sitting her down at her vanity, and Adora has _ never _seen Glimmer look more serious or deadly as she does now with moisturizer in one hand and a beauty blender in the other. And for a moment, as Glimmer descends on her, Adora fears for her life.

Bow comes in just as Glimmer is getting the flat iron plugged in; he leans against the door frame and calls out, “I’m done! I finished cleaning everything up—_ so _ sorry, Adora. I promise, everything is back to the way it was! You look _ really _good, by the way.”

Adora huffs and looks at herself in the mirror, and admittedly, he’s right. Whatever Glimmer’s done has made her eyes look bigger and bluer, and her skin looks smooth and more even. That’s about as far as she can tell, but she’s _ not _ going to say that with Glimmer around. “Thanks, Bow. Even though it’s _ still not a date. _”

“Yeah, okay, _ anyway _—your outfit is on your bed. Have fun on your date!” And before Adora can find something to throw at him, Bow darts out of the room, cackling.

“He _ does _have a point,” Glimmer says once he’s gone. She runs her fingers through Adora’s hair, and Adora wrinkles her nose at the ticklish sensation against her neck. Thankfully, Glimmer takes pity on her, gathering all of Adora’s hair in her hand and holding it away.

“Why don’t you just cut your hair?” she asks, looking at Adora through the mirror.

Adora shrugs, sighing. “I don’t know, I just...I don’t want it _ short, _I just don’t like how it feels when it touches me. I don’t know why, I just...don’t like it.”

“Do you want to just go with a bun then? I can cut you bangs—”

“_ No bangs! _ Did I not tell you about my bangs phase? It was _ awful. _”

Glimmer scoffs and rolls her eyes, playfully tousling Adora’s hair before gathering it back up again. And then her eyes light up as she begins to carefully part her hair. “How about something like this?”

And—Adora _ likes _it.

Her friends must know her better than she thought, because after Glimmer finishes styling her hair, Adora holds up the outfit Bow had picked, and—she likes that too. She’s not sure where the shirt came from, and she’s pretty sure the belt is Bow’s, but it looks good, and even more so when Bow comes in and carefully, artfully tucks her shirt in and undoes the top two buttons.

“You look so _ good, _ ” he squeals when he steps back, “you look like a model, Adora! Seriously! Catra’s gonna _ love _it.”

“It’s _ not _a date, Bow. Seriously, it’s just dinner.” Adora grabs her phone from the bed and opens her conversation with Catra; she’d responded about twenty minutes ago that she was finally free.

> **Ado-ra **(17:51): i am SO sorry im ready now
> 
> **Catra **(17:52): Good. I’m already at the bar, Lonnie’s outside
> 
> **Ado-ra **(17:53): WHAT
> 
> **Ado-ra **(17:54): WAS SHE WAITING LONG
> 
> **Ado-ra **(17:54): CATRA
> 
> **Ado-ra **(17:54): WHY DIDN U TELL ME
> 
> **Catra **(17:55): >:3
> 
> **Ado-ra **(17:55): oh my GOD

“Guys,” Adora yells, “I gotta go, my ride's here—Catra’s such an _ ass _, I’ll text you when I get there, bye!” And before either of her friends can answer, Adora sprints outside.

There’s a sleek black car waiting, and Adora nearly trips in her haste to get inside, spilling out a hurried, “I am _ so _sorry, Catra never said you were here—my friends were trying to get me dressed up, and—”

“Chill,” the driver—Lonnie—says. She looks a little older than Adora, and through the mirror, Adora sees her roll her eyes. “I’m not surprised that she had me waiting.”

> **Ado-ra **(17:57): im omw!!
> 
> **Catra **(17:57): Finally

“What? Why?”

> **Ado-ra **(17:57): id be theresooner if u told me lonnie wa here !!!!
> 
> **Catra **(17:58): :3 Oops

“Well…you know how Catra is.” And no, Adora does not know how Catra is. “I’m honestly surprised you agreed to meet her, you’re so...”

Lonnie falls silent, shaking her head, and Adora gives her a moment to speak before prompting, “So?”

“So...nice.”

“You don’t even know me,” Adora laughs, “you can’t—”

“It’s in your eyes,” Lonnie interrupts, “they’re warm and alive. People like Catra...their eyes aren’t like that. She’s a spoiled brat and nothing more, and if I were you, I’d have me turn this car right back around and forget you ever met her.”

At that, Adora falls silent, thinking back to the Catra she knows. The Catra she’d first met at the cafe, not quite cold but not very warm either, just—uninterested. And then, the Catra that had sent her $300 _ just because. _The Catra that dropped by her practice because she was bored, the Catra that ordered lunch for her whole team because she could. The Catra with the teasing voice and playful grin and lively eyes, the Catra that invited her out to dinner for—whatever reason. She thinks about how exhilarating it was to be around Catra—how she feels simultaneously safe and on edge (in the best kind of way) whenever Catra is near her.

> **Catra **(18:00): Hey, Adora
> 
> **Catra **(18:00): Look at the menu and tell me what you might want, so we don’t have to wait as long

A soft smile flirts with Adora’s lips as she reads and rereads Catra’s message. “I...don’t,” she finally answers Lonnie, “I think we know two completely different Catras. Because the Catra I know... “

“No, you don’t _ know _ her, not like I do. I’ve known Catra her whole life, and sure, it wasn’t easy growing up in _ that _ house, but she is not _ — _ she is _ not— _ a good person. I don’t really care that you’re meeting with her, but—Adora, right?—trust me when I say not to trust _ her. _”

> **Catra **(18:03): Adora?
> 
> **Ado-ra **(18:04): yeah sorry um
> 
> **Ado-ra **(18:04): order me anything im not picky !
> 
> **Catra **(18:05): Okay, princess

“I...I can’t just throw away my relationship with her because of that. I’m not dismissing you, but I have to at least give her a chance, and—” Adora thinks of the Catra that so subtly shows that she cares, “I have to believe that people are good, and that if they’re not, they can change.”

Lonnie scoffs, and shakes her head, and does not answer. It’s not an awkward silence, but it isn’t exactly comfortable either; it’s the kind of silence that strangers thrust together share, and Adora wishes that she could talk to Catra again, but Lonnie’s words are in her mind now, and that’s not _ fair _to Catra, isn’t fair to herself, but—

“We’re here,” Lonnie says. Her voice is stiff, but she gives Adora a little half smile as Adora gets out of the car, and Adora promises herself to ask Catra to get something for Lonnie from the bar.

> **Ado-ra **(18:14): im outside :)

Not moments later, Catra comes outside; Adora feels a little jolt of _ something _when Catra spots her almost immediately. She vaguely registers Lonnie driving away, but she can’t bring herself to care, not when Catra is coming closer, looking her up and down ever so slowly.

“_ Hey, _ Adora,” she drawls, “you sure do clean up well.”

Adora feels a flush begin to settle over her cheeks and she ducks her head to keep Catra from seeing. “Thank you, Catra.”

Catra laughs, gentle and fond, and when Adora glances up at her again, she’s holding out a hand for Adora to take, and the look in her eye is so enamoured that Adora takes it without hesitating, and lets herself be pulled inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Catra has dealt with all kinds of people in her life, but she has never, never had anyone so simply listen to her, trust her, and believe in her. For a moment, Catra wonders if that’s what she’s missed out on all her life—if people just trust and believe without a moment’s thought—or if that’s just the way Adora works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday to our favorite bastard cat

Catra figures the glass of wine she’d already had is the reason that she feels like she’s buzzing as she leads Adora through the bar and up the stairs. Adora’s hand is held tight in hers despite the lack of crowd around them, but Catra feels  _ good  _ like this, and Adora doesn’t pull away, so she doesn’t let go. Adora is silent until they get to the table, her eyes roaming the room in obvious shock and delight. For a moment, Catra is confused, and then she remembers: Adora comes from a completely different world from her, one where places like the Crimson Waste are seen as a luxury, not a standard.

Honestly, her wide-eyed amazement is...kind of cute. Catra laughs a little under her breath and brushes passed Adora to pull her chair out; when Adora looks at her, Catra bows and gives her a wry little grin. “Your chair,” she says, reveling in the way Adora’s cheeks pinken.

Before Adora sits, she glances down at herself, tugging at the shoulders of her shirt as if embarrassed by how low it dips. “Leave it, princess,” Catra says, and though Adora is looking at her, confused, Catra means it, just like she meant what she said earlier: Adora looks  _ good  _ like this. Her  [ hair ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/665618019911439818/) has been freed from its rigid ponytail and instead sits atop her head in an artfully messy bun, a few locks framing and softening her face, and Catra  _ knows  _ she’s going to be stealing Adora’s loosely tucked in button up and pants  [ ensemble ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/665618019911502657/) .

“You don’t think it looks weird?”

“It looks amazing,” Catra says, and she is just as surprised as Adora by how much she means it. But the soft smile she receives and the way Adora’s shoulders relax as her self-consciousness begins to fade is so,  _ so  _ worth it, and Catra has to bite the inside of her lip  _ hard  _ to keep from smiling back.

Because this is just business.

“Anyway, I figured you didn’t drink, but I ordered us wine anyway.” Catra says briskly as she sits. She takes another sip of the wine and tries not to choke on a laugh as Adora’s nose wrinkles—and god, how can even  _ that  _ be endearing? “Okay, so  _ I’ll  _ have wine. I’ve already ordered my usual for us both, but it’s fine if you don’t like it.”

“It should be fine, I can eat anything.” But Adora still picks up the menu to skim it, her eyes going almost comically wide as she sees the prices. Before she can begin to protest, Catra reaches out, tapping her finger against the top of the menu to get Adora’s attention.

“Hey. I’ve got it, okay? If you want something, just...pick something you think you’ll like, and don’t worry about anything else.”

Adora chews at her lower lip again, looking at Catra hard for a long few moments. Whatever she’s looking for, she must find, because she takes a deep breath and then nods, again tucking the wavy strands of hair framing her face behind her ears. “I guess I’m ready then?”

Obediently, Catra flags the nearest server down, propping her chin on one hand to watch Adora as she orders. Entrapta must seriously be rubbing off on her, because Catra finds herself noticing more and more little details about Adora in those moments: how often she bites and licks at her lip, the way she blinks too fast and too often when the server asks her a clarifying question, the dimple that winks out when she smiles in thanks. How she’s been sitting ramrod straight ever since they got to their table, the way her fingers flutter to the shoulders of her shirt before falling to her lap again, how when she glances at Catra now, her gaze rests just to the left of her.

And when the server leaves, Catra traces her finger against the rim of her wine glass, waiting for a moment for Adora to speak. She doesn’t, so Catra asks, “What happened?”

Adora jumps a little, again looking at that spot just to the left of Catra’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“You’re nervous. You’re doing that thing with your hair, and you keep biting your lip, and you won’t even  _ look  _ at me.” True to her observation, Adora’s gaze has fallen to the tabletop, and Catra sighs. “So what happened?”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you are?” Adora blurts out. She immediately looks guilty, brows furrowing further when Catra scoffs.

“Because I didn’t want  _ this  _ to happen. People always act differently when they find out.”

“Why?”

And that’s— “That’s not quite a first date question, princess.”

For the first time since they sat down, Adora looks at her— _ really  _ looks at her. And then their eye contact breaks, and Adora nods, absently 9tucking her hair back again with one hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll wait, as long as it takes—if you want to tell me, anyway.”

And Catra has dealt with all kinds of people in her life, but she has never, _never _had anyone so simply listen to her, trust her, and _believe _in her. For a moment, Catra wonders if that’s what she’s missed out on all her life—if people just trust and believe without a moment’s thought—or if that’s just the way Adora works.

“Okay, princess. Tell me something about you then.”

And Adora does. She tells Catra about her best friends, about her grandmother, about the classes she’s taking. She’s majoring in psychology, and wants to be a therapist so she can help kids in high school and college, because it’s such a vulnerable time for them—and here, her voice breaks and Catra knows there’s a deeper story than that, so she changes the subject. She asks about fencing, and finds out that Adora has been fencing since she was a kid, and that she  _ loves  _ it. She’s helpless to succumb to Adora’s smile, and all it takes is one pleading look for Catra to spill out all the dumb little bits and pieces of her childhood that she can stand to think about.

She tells Adora about her shithead foster brother (but she doesn’t say that, all she tells Adora about are the times when they used to tolerate each other) and about growing up with Entrapta, the two of them quite literally crawling around the inner workings of the Horde Headquarters. She tells Adora about all the times they’d get in trouble for finding their way into the vent ducts, and about how boring being homeschooled was, and about how she made a game of terrorizing all of the maids and teachers until they quit.

She’s definitely glossing over the gritty details, but Adora doesn’t deserve to have all of Catra’s shit dumped on her at once, and honestly, for what is probably the first time ever, Catra actually  _ wants  _ to tell someone all of the deepest, darkest things that have happened to her—and she’s not even drunk.

All conversation dies as the food comes; Adora ends up inhaling the penne alla moscato despite Catra’s teasing about the wine in it, and she hesitantly asks if they can get another serving for Lonnie. (And when Adora says that, Catra almost spits out her wine. But she agrees, because it’s Adora.) Catra knows that Adora wants to order dessert by the way her eyes keep flitting to the dessert menu, but before Adora can open her mouth to ask, Catra stands, comes around the side of the table, and offers Adora her hand. Adora takes it, confused, but she smiles bright and radiant when Catra explains, “The dessert here isn’t as good as the dinner, trust me. We can go somewhere else, your pick.”

And that is how they end up walking to a little diner on the corner of two relatively empty streets. Apparently, Adora is friends with the owners: she waves Catra towards a booth in the back and then stays up at the counter, talking to the one that had introduced herself as Netossa. When Adora comes back, she’s smiling, but the tips of her ears are bright red, and Catra very pointedly  _ does not comment  _ on what she’d managed to overhear of Adora’s conversation.

“So, what do they have here, princess?”

Adora rolls her eyes, but there is only fondness in her voice when she answers, “Spinerella and Netossa are like...you know those friends that are so close to your family that you call them family?” Catra doesn’t, but she nods anyway. “They’re like my cousins. Or, Glimmer’s, but—we’re all close enough that I call them my cousins. Anyway, they’re giving us milkshakes on the house, which is what I wanted you to try anyway. Everything here is great though, and handmade too. It takes longer, but I think it’s worth it. I...I hope you like it.”

The sudden quietness to Adora’s voice makes Catra freeze, look up. And as she watches Adora watch her, Catra  _ realizes.  _ This isn’t just dessert, this is Adora bringing Catra in close, showing her a hidden part of herself. She said it herself, that these are her cousins, her family. And that’s—

“I will,” she blurts out. And that doesn’t feel like enough, but Adora’s cheeks are as red as her ears now as she nods. She looks like she wants to say something else, but she stays silent, her smile soft and her gaze fixed on the tabletop.

Catra nudges one of Adora’s knees with her foot to get her attention; when Adora glances up, she says, “I wanted to take you out instead, so you could see how...formal this will be. Have you ever danced before—something proper, like a waltz?”

Adora shakes her head, and that wide-eyed look of shock comes back. “Something proper— _ formal?  _ A  _ waltz? _ ”

“What a shame, I guess I’ll just have to teach you. When are you free?”

As if emboldened by Catra’s playful tone, Adora rests her chin on her hand, watching Catra with a raised brow and a wicked grin settled on her lips. “Why Catra,” she asks, “are you asking me on a date?”

Only now does Catra let a grin mirroring Adora’s split her lips, and she can already tell that Adora is beginning to regret her teasing. “Would you say yes If I were?”

Adora opens her mouth to answer, something like relief and disappointment flashing across her expression when she spots Netossa coming out with their milkshakes. She throws Adora a very obvious wink and as she sets their milkshakes down, says, “Adora, come back sooner next time—and feel free to bring your girlfriend too!”

Adora makes a very interesting, very high pitched sound in response, and Catra leans forward to rest her hand on top of Adora’s as she responds. “She will; you’ll  _ definitely _ be seeing a lot of us.”

Again comes that strangled noise, and Catra gives first Adora, then Netossa her most saccharine smile. Adora turns her hand over as if on autopilot to lace their fingers together, then promptly hides her face in her free hand as Netossa laughs and walks away. It’s endearing, how easy Adora is, and Catra takes careful note of the resurgence of Adora’s blushing before schooling her expression into something more neutral.

“Girlfriend, huh?”

“So they asked who you were, and if you were my girlfriend, so I  _ may  _ have told them that we’re dating? I  _ panicked,  _ okay? Stop laughing!”

Catra covers her heart with her free hand, drawing back in mock surprise as she says, “I would  _ never  _ laugh at my girlfriend! I’m offended you even brought it up, you know how much I—care about you.” 

If Adora notices the way Catra trips up over her words, she doesn’t elaborate; she just smiles gently and drags her milkshake towards herself. It’s  _ huge,  _ a monster of a milkshake, topped with licorice, strawberries and even a doughnut.

“This is... _ interesting. _ ”

“Ella is practically dessert psychic,” Adora agrees, very sagely, “I  _ guarantee  _ you’ll love it.”

She looks so serious that Catra has to cough to keep from laughing, but as she watches Adora carefully free the doughnut from her  [ milkshake ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/20055160828687449/?nic=1) , she kind of...has to agree. Because Adora’s milkshake is bright and bold, full of so many sweet, sugary things, and that’s... _ very  _ Adora. And Catra doesn’t even like chocolate that much, but when she takes a careful sip, she finds that her own  [ milkshake ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/173881235600277153/?nic=1) is bitter beneath the sweetness.

And that’s...kind of fitting.

“Okay, I  _ guess  _ I’ll give her this one.”

“Right?”

“It’s  _ alright, _ ” Catra mutters. Adora rolls her eyes and waves for Catra to slide the milkshake over, her nose wrinkling as she takes a sip.

“It’s too bitter—but I guess you like it like that?”

“I’m not big on sweets,” Catra shrugs, “never really have been. And no, I won’t try yours, it  _ looks  _ too sweet.”

Adora looks as if Catra has just insulted her very sense of being, so Catra heaves a sigh and leans in to try it. And she’s right; the milkshake is far too sweet on her tongue, but so is Adora’s smile, and that’s—

“Anyway,” Catra shoves the thought away, forcing herself away from Adora to start, “the dinner is in a month, at Horde HQ. It’ll be pretty formal, but you don’t have to do much, just show up on my arm and look pretty. Since, you know, you  _ are  _ my girlfriend.”

“Ha ha, shut up,” Adora mutters, casting Catra a glare that is largely ineffective due to the soft smile on her lips.

“But really, you just have to...show up with me. We’ll eat some, dance a bit, socialize—small talk with the suits. My—Weaver said if I didn’t find someone  _ respectable  _ to go with this year, she’d pick someone for me. Since, y’know. I’m old enough to inherit the family business and all of that crap. But anyway—yeah. That’s pretty much it.”

“What about outfits? I don’t really…”

“We’ll go shopping whenever you’re free. But there’s time until then—I’m more concerned with you learning how to waltz, at least.”

Adora hums and nods. Catra watches her dip one of the plump strawberries in milkshake and lick it clean before speaking again. “That sounds good. I can send you my schedule later, but I can make time—”

“It’s okay, princess. Maybe I’ll just show up again, and you’ll just  _ have  _ to come with me.”

“You know,” Adora says slowly, “I don’t think I’d mind that.”

Catra returns to her milkshake to try to keep the flustered smile from her lips.

Over the next two weeks, Adora inserts herself into Catra’s life almost effortlessly. If they’re not texting or on the phone with each other, Catra is wherever Adora is; waiting outside the gym after fencing practice, sitting in the booth furthest to the door with a coffee and her laptop while Adora bustles around Bright Moon, draped over the length of the couch with her head pillowed in Adora’s lap as she studies.

And despite the glares Adora’s roommate gives her, and the rather invasive questions Entrapta has begun to ask about her and Adora’s  _ relationship,  _ Catra really  _ likes  _ this. She likes how easily she and Adora read each other now, and she likes texting Adora during shitty board meetings, and she likes when Adora falls asleep while they’re on the phone, mostly because she gets to tease her about it once she wakes up.

She likes going out with Adora and treating her and her team to dinner after they win meets, and she likes the way Adora has her order memorized and ready when she gets to Bright Moon, and she  _ loves  _ that Adora always curls into her and lets her trace idle circles against her hip or thigh.

Eventually that word always comes up again— _ girlfriend _ —and they both ignore it except to tease each other, because they’re  _ not  _ dating. They’ve established an easy sort of cover story though, one that started with Adora saying, “I met Catra at Bright Moon a while ago, but I only just got the courage to talk to her, and here we are,” with an easy smile, and has now developed into a full-blown story about how Catra would flirt with Adora, who was too oblivious to notice until Catra point blank gave her her number. 

Adora’s even getting the hang of dancing; whenever Adora tries on a new gown, they’ll practice waltzing for a few passes, spinning until Catra has a giddy, blushing, laughing Adora in her arms.

And it’s...nice.

Until—

**Adora ** (8:03pm): catra

**Adora ** (8:03pm): [missed call]

**Adora ** (8:03pm): [missed call]

**Adora ** (8:04pm): [missed call]

**Adora ** (8:04pm): plscome quick


End file.
